Little St Nick
by KayValo87
Summary: As Christmas approaches Stalag 13, an unexpected visitor reminds the Heroes that there is still good in the world.


_**Happy St. Nicholas Day!**_

I don't know how many of you consider this a holiday, but as my son is named after the generous saint it is a special name to me. So, I decided this would be a great time to gift my readers with a new fandom.

This story is dedicated to my own sweet Nicholas. (Momma loves you, baby boy!)

A big thanks to my beta, San Antonio Rose, for not only reintroducing me to the show Hogan's Heroes but also their impressive vocabulary and grammar skills - in two languages!

**DISCLAIMER:** I'm not old enough to own Hogan's hat, much less anything recognizable.

Enjoy ...

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Hogan stood in his office, leaning over a map and plotting out the best route to get a couple of their boys to London. Klink had handed them the perfect opportunity. The camp was crowded today as the families of the soldiers had been allowed in to bring gift boxes to their loved ones. Of course, the prisoners had all been confined to barracks and the Kommandant had gleefully told them not to expect anything from the gift exchange. Not that he or his men _had_ expected anything. Besides, the Red Cross would provide some Christmas cheer with their next shipment. Still, who was he to crush the man's spirits by telling him they weren't bothered by his refusal to share?

"You cheat!" LeBeau shouted from the other room.

"Talent ain't cheating, Mate," Newkirk shot back.

And it wasn't like his men couldn't find ways to entertain themselves during the lockdown. Hogan checked his watch and went back to his maps. Their poker game had been going on for six and a half hours. That might be a record. However, all good things had to come to an end. Soon the civilians would be leaving and they wanted to hurry if they were going to get their men slipped into the crowd. However, opening the door revealed that one of the civilians seemed to have the same idea.

Standing unseen next to Newkirk's shoulder was a small boy. Sandy blond hair peeked out under a red knit cap. His worn-out coat was a size or two too big, but it was clean and lovingly cared for. Probably a hand-me-down, along with the scuffed boots on his feet. The war affected everyone, including the children. Turning his gaze from the boy, Hogan glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed their guest. So far, everyone was focused on the game and the growing pot in the middle of it.

"Is it good to have that many _Damenkarten_?"

Well, they sure noticed him _now_. All around the card table players folded while the rest of the room looked at the boy in surprise - with the exception of Newkirk who just looked annoyed. Hogan didn't blame him; he would be upset too if someone announced he was holding queens.

"Thanks a million," the Englishman grumbled.

"How did you get in here?" Carter asked for the others.

"The door," the boy replied in heavily accented English.

At least he was honest. A few of the men had turned toward the office, obviously planning to let the Colonel know about their guest, only to turn away sheepishly when they realized Hogan had seen the whole thing. Figuring it was about time he dealt with the situation, he headed for the table.

"The soldiers let us in," the boy continued. "Papa is their commander."

The announcement stopped Hogan dead in his tracks. Commander … as in Kommandant? He took another look at the kid. His round face was sweet and innocent, his blue eyes shining with warm kindness. Maybe he took after his mother …

"You say you're Klink's kid?" Kinch asked.

"No, not the Kommandant," the boy shook his head. "Papa is the most important soldier in camp."

Several of the men looked at Hogan, but he just rolled his eyes. While he probably had more control in the camp than Klink, the local children wouldn't know that. On top of that, he hadn't been in Germany long enough to have fathered a kid his age.

"Who's the most important soldier in the camp?" Hogan questioned.

"_Mein_ _Papa_," the boy said proudly, puffing out his little chest, "_ist Unteroffizier_-er, he is the Sergeant of the Guard."

Now that made more sense! A sweet, friendly child: who else could he be but a Schultz? The revelation brought nods and smiles around the room. After all, any son of the Sergeant was a friend of theirs. On the other hand …

"I'm not sure you're supposed to be in here," Hogan stated.

"I know," the young Schultz admitted, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I have a… a... _Geheimauftrag_."

His words had an effect on the room as the prisoners leaned in to hear what the boy considered so important that he needed to infiltrate their barracks. Hogan was equally intrigued, squatting down to look the kid in the eye.

"What kind of secret mission?"

"A secret secret mission. Even Papa does not know."

That sounded pretty secret and he was especially curious as to why this secret mission seemed to involve speaking to the enemy. Hogan was about to ask about it when the door flew open. The Colonel stood just in time to greet a frantic Sergeant, words tumbling out of his mouth as he seemed to continue running while standing still.

"Colonel Hogan, Dieter is missing! My wife will kill me if anything happens to-Dieter!"

"Found him," Newkirk supplied helpfully.

True to form, Schultz thanked them profusely for finding his youngest child, but the boy in question was distracted by something. Staring up at the officer with his wide blue eyes, he took a step forward.

"You are Colonel Hogan?"

"That's right," he said with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Dieter."

"Papa says you are the best man in this camp … and the biggest headache."

Schultz's nervous chuckle almost drowned out the snickers coming from around the room. Hogan, for his part, was both flattered and amused by the description. Clearly he was doing his job right.

"_Come now, my son_," the Sergeant urged in German. "_You don't want to keep your mother waiting_."

"_But how can he be a walking headache_?" Dieter asked in the same language.

"Later, Dieter!"

And with that, the Schultzes were gone. Just as well, the rest of them had work to do. Hogan ordered a lookout, to avoid any more surprise guests, before opening the entrance to the tunnels. Talbot and Hilton climbed out, already bundled up in civilian clothing.

"Do you have the documents for London?" Hogan asked.

"Right here," Hilton replied, patting the side of his coat.

He nodded and led the pair back to his office to go over their route. Soon they had the details down and it was just a matter of waiting until the perfect opportunity.

"Colonel!" the lookout called, "the kid's coming back."

Hogan sighed and instructed the two to wait in his office until the area was clear. Closing the door behind him, he joined his men at the window. Dieter was coming across the camp, moving from one hiding spot to the next in a way that the little guy probably thought was stealthy. It was truly adorable. What else could you expect from a boy with a secret secret mission?

"Don't open the door," Hogan ordered Carter, who already had his hand on the knob.

"But he's almost here," the Sergeant pointed out.

"Exactly," Hogan confirmed. "Everyone as you were."

While he still looked confused, the other men caught on and resumed their normal activities. Newkirk and LeBeau pulled Carter into a conversation, asking him questions about the Boy Scouts, so that he would stay away from the door. After all, how could the boy sneak up on them if they let him in?

"Colonel Hogan?" Dieter whispered, peeking his head through the door.

"What-Dieter!" he exclaimed. "How did you get back here?"

The boy grinned and slipped inside the barracks, while Newkirk and LeBeau prevented Carter from giving away their ruse. However, this visit would have to be quick. The civilians would be leaving soon and they couldn't risk the young Schultz seeing their men. Not that he was likely to give them away on purpose, but he had already proven himself to say things that he wasn't supposed to repeat.

"I move like shadows," he explained, in a voice that barely counted as a whisper. "I have to finish my secret mission."

By this point, Hogan had noticed a bulge in the kid's jacket that hadn't been there during his first visit. This was very curious. Had one of their contacts used this child to smuggle something into the camp? If that was the case, he was going to have a very serious talk with them about the use of civilians. Nothing was worth risking the life of a kid, especially Schultz's kid.

"This is for you and the other prisoners," Dieter explained, pulling an object out of his jacket.

For a moment, Hogan was stunned to silence. He recognized the package immediately, since he had already seen several throughout the day. It was a plain box secured with a red string, just like the ones the soldiers had received from their families.

"It is not much," Dieter said sadly. "The soldiers took the good things, but I had to bring you something. Papa says no one should be left out at Christmas."

The Colonel gave the boy a smile as he picked up the heavy box. No wonder he had gone to such lengths for secrecy. Klink had said that only Germans would be getting Christmas boxes, but this little guy had somehow managed to get them one anyway.

"Your father is a good man. Thank you."

The boy grinned and went back to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob.

"_Fröhliche Weihnachten_, Colonel Hogan."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Dieter."

With one last smile, the boy was gone. The men gathered around Hogan to see what the kid brought them. Inside the box was a jar of jam, a small sack of homemade crackers, a pair of knit gloves with a matching cap, and five tin soldiers. Meager pickings comparatively, but treasures to a child like Dieter.

"Gentleman," the Colonel stated. "I think this is the best care package we have ever received."

Hogan handed it over to LeBeau to distribute the food items while he retrieved the men from his office. They didn't have much time. Soon the civilians would be leaving.

"What was that all about?" Talbot asked.

"Just a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Present," he replied.

Hogan gave them their final instructions and they managed to slip into the group of civilians without a hitch. Once Talbot and Hilton were on their way, Hogan returned to his office. The box was sitting on his desk next to a couple of crackers, each with a dollop of jam. The hat and gloves had been removed, probably now residing with their disguises, but the tin soldiers remained. Hogan picked one up and studied it, taking note of the chipped paint. This toy had to be older than Dieter. And the maker's stamp on the base read _Schatzi Spielzeugfirma GmbH_-Schultz must have made these himself before the war.

"Colonel?" LeBeau called, sticking his head in the office. "Goldilocks is on the line."

"On my way," he replied, setting the soldier on his desk and popping one of the crackers into his mouth to eat on the way down to the radio room.

It may be Christmas, but they still had a war to fight. However, it was nice to get a reminder that not everything in life was about sabotage and espionage. That there was still innocence and joy in the world. What a great thing to fight for.

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So, what do you think?

I plan to post a few more holiday one-shots (in other fandoms) as the season continues, so stay tuned.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcome. Thank you for reading.


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